Tomson | markgamon

Tomson the Marriner

I am the man they call Tomson the Marriner

Tomson the sailor, Tomson the sea

And all that I have – all these goods I can pass on

I owe to the water between God and me

There’s a light comes over the bow

And it’s a hearts ease that we’re going home now

Mist on the morning and echoing bells from the town

And I will be standing here always, watching the gulls

I have sailed to the bay at Bordeaux

And run before the tide on Orcabella’s coast

I have battled the Spaniard with cannon, and fought hand to hand

But I still fear the sound of the leadline across Goodwin Sands

I am old now, with gout and poor eyes

I have buried the stillborn and outlived a wife

I have brewhouses, fishing craft, tenements, linen and plate

But all I have left of my life is my only estate